Breathing at 4000 Feet

Two nights ago I drove east, driving for space, for clarity, for silence and the sacrality of my own sanity.  On winding country highways and over narrow bridges I made the climb from my city home which sits a hair above sea level and drove up, up, for 4000 feet.  When I finally put the Jeep in park, I sent BC a message as is wise when traipsing the back country:

"I'm out of town tonight.  Drove up 2, turned on a forestry road.  Wanted you to know." 

His response?

"Breathe."

Good man.  The very best in fact.

The air truly is different there, high in the Cascade Mountains.  I pulled as much of it into my lungs as I could, gulping down that raw, wild space.  And when I arrived home later that night, all those particles of mountain air were still flooding through my system, oxygenating my blood, pumping along through my head and heart.

Breathing at 4000 Feet Ring

(sterling silver and prehnite) 

I can't tell you what that air smells like, but I can build you a window.  A portal into that mountain high, a small place to stop and breathe when the world becomes too loud.  A tiny place to rest and feel the tall trees lift you up.

* * * 

I wish you a weekend of heart-space friends!  Be well! 

- U